Eye of the Storm
by KisekiMa
Summary: Ten years after the 5th War R. Tohsaka & W. Velvet come back to Fuyuki to destroy the Grail, and discover that its core had been stolen. Soon Command Spells appear on their hands and the war of two factions begins. Meanwhile, in another dimension, the demon hunter Dante decides to accept the request that will turn his life upside down. Co-authors: hyperomegasonic26, Omega Sanction.
1. The Island of Ice

**Eye of the Storm**

* * *

"For the most powerful of all beings there's no such thing like 'good' or 'evil' - only things that must be done."

\- Archer of Storm

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Island of Ice**

_There were… signals, like barely noticeable itching of skin, restless dreams or general tension in their magic circuits. Both Rin and Waver, experienced as they were, knew exactly what it means._

* * *

It was a cold, autumn night. A special night for mystical arts, halfway between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice, when magic of the land twirls nervously under the gaze of full moon.

During that night a Servant materialized deep in the basement of an old castle, surrounded by never-ending winter.

Summoning a Servant when a Holy Grail is involved doesn't seem like anything special, some would say. But everything about this one was different, from his class and abilities, to his twisted identity. In short: an entity like him shouldn't be able to exist, so manifesting him using ordinary magic was nearly impossible.

Yet he appeared in this reality, almost spontaneously, crossing the barriers of time and space, driven by a single wish that made his manifestation possible. His determination let him be recorded in the Throne of Heroes, bid the legend to his will, deceived powers that couldn't be normally messed with.

The Servant did not need much time to realize what a chance had been given to him, one in a million impossible possibilities. He's waited so long, withstood countless defeats and years of humiliations, but never gave up.

Judging from what's just happened, it was more than worth it.

Two mages claimed to have control over him, both thinking they're too smart and powerful to be deceived by a mere familiar dependent on the Grail. Arrogant magi live in every era, it seems. If they only knew…

But at least someone was able to uncover the true intentions of this unusual entity. Deep inside the Grail's core a weak stream of consciousness of one or more former vessels still existed. Feeling that something went terrifyingly wrong, it activated the emergency system.

The Servant laughed at this pitiful rebellion. Seven more Heroic Spirits then? Fine, it was even better. Mhhhhmm, truly wonderful!

He smiled to himself, overjoyed. He will make sure to not waste even a single drop of magical energy.

But first he needed to find a perfect vessel.

* * *

"This is bad," said Rin Tohsaka.

"Indeed," the elegant man, known as Lord El-Melloi II, admitted without hesitation.

It seemed that they were so focused on plotting how to outsmart the greedy mages of the Clock Tower, that they ended up outsmarted by someone else…

They came to the cave hidden deep under the Ryuudou Temple in Fuyuki to end the war once and for all, but the Grail wasn't there anymore. How was it even possible? Why the spells casted once by Tohsaka to protect this place didn't work?

"Here." Rin touched strange scratches on the surface of the tunnel, where the main carvings held the structure of the spell. To move the entire web of magic to another place without damaging it required enormous knowledge and equally great power. "Definitely fresh. So they used tools, not only magic."

"How they did it, although interesting, is not as important as who did it, Miss Tohsaka," her older companion noticed dryly and performed his own experiment. He's been through many difficult situation during his life and learned to be always prepared for any challenge, so a portable laboratory was a permanent part of his travel equipment. "Here we go…"

He placed a sample from the scratch in a small test-tube and mixed it with a special reagent. A short spell was enough to initiate and fasten the process. Faint traces of magical energy were shining inside the glass with a cold, blue light.

Lord El-Melloi II frowned, surprised by the result. It was something far worse than he expected to find. He still needed to be sure…

"Maybe you can recognize this type of magic, Miss Tohsaka?"

Rin raised an eyebrow and looked carefully at the sample. She casted a short spell, strengthened by one of her jewels, and focused on the faint aura trapped inside the test-tube.

"The Einzberns," she said after a while. "I remember well this kind of energy, there's no way I'm mistaken." Illyasviel almost killed her during their first fight near the cemetery in Fuyuki – and such things are hardly forgotten. "But it's not as strong as back then and it seems mixed with something… strange."

Waver accepted her judgment with a small nod. It made sense so far. Obviously, the Einzberns knew everything about the Grail and had almost infinite resources to perform a complicated operation like this.

"But the Einzberns are not experts of such kind of spells. Unless they invented another Illyasviel…" Tohsaka felt that something is wrong. This magic was different. Older and more unpredictable than any kind of modern magecraft she's encountered so far.

"They could hire a specialist for this task, it's not unusual for them to use the services of freelancers," Lord El-Melloi II said, while packing his tools, but he did not seem convinced by his own theory. He reached for a pack of cigarettes and followed Tohsaka to the exit. "So… what should we do now?"

Rin winced, admitting defeat. Their perfect plan to secretly get rid of the remnants of the Fuyuki Grail failed completely. Now, when the core had been stolen, they needed resources and contacts of the Association to retrieve it. But asking them for help was like apologizing for plotting behind their backs, which could be considered an act of treason.

To make the situation still work in their favor, they either needed to think of a good explanation or pray for something unexpected to happen in the Clock Tower, so their crime would be forgotten in the chaos...

"We must tell them everything," she said eventually, abandoning pride for greater good.

"I think they already know," Lord El-Melloi replied with a strange, somehow sad smile, and Tohsaka didn't argue.

Of course they knew, if at least one of the mages has been chosen to be a Master. There were… signals, like barely noticeable itching of skin, restless dreams or general tension in their magic circuits. Both Rin and Waver, experienced as they were, knew exactly what it means.

Soon, almost ten years after the nightmare of the last one, a completely new Holy Grail War was about to begin.

* * *

Shirou Emiya blinked several times, not sure where he is. His eyes needed a moment to adjust to the overwhelming darkness.

A cave? Right. He remembered now. There was a fight and he ended up wounded, so they decided to stay here for the night…

"Oh? You're awake at last," the mysterious woman said, checking his pulse and eventual fever. She was one of the most beautiful creatures Emiya has ever seen, with her characteristic purple hair and equally wonderful eyes. Shirou gulped painfully under her intense gaze, and tried hard to think only of Rin.

It's been no longer than three weeks when he and Tohsaka split up. They traveled together most of the time, but sometimes he was absorbed by 'hero business' and she had duties in the Clock Tower someone with her talent and position couldn't ignore. It was fine for both of them – they were partners in every possible way, after all.

One day Shirou accepted a simple request to clean the haunted forest somewhere in the northern part of Scotland. He would never expect that he would face Scáthach, the undying Queen of Shadows, the teacher of heroes. She was the one who had summoned the wraiths, to test potential challengers and chose a new pupil, worthy to be trained by her in old rules of war and runic magic.

After a fierce fight Scáthach decided to join Shirou's little pilgrimage… although she nearly killed him in the recruitment process. She didn't tell him yet how she had escaped her eternal prison in the Realm of Shadows. Actually, she didn't talk much about her past. It seemed that present times interest her much more than old stories devoid of meaning.

Emiya needed to admit that the proud and skillful Witch of Dún Scáith turned out to be a reliable companion, who did not give him any reason to complain so far. Shirou couldn't wait to recover completely and start his training under such amazing instructor.

Trying hard to not think too much while her intense gaze was piercing through him, Shirou realized that an annoying buzzing comes not from his own, distracted brain, but from his mobile phone.

"Oh, this." Scáthach winced, annoyed by the device. "Your friend was calling a while ago. He said his name is Shinji and that something bad happened." When Shirou frowned questioningly, she shrugged and added: "He seemed panicked and very angry."

"Well, Shinji always sounds like that," Emiya commented, shaking his head, but finally picked up the phone. "Hi, Shinj… What?!" He almost jumped out the bed, more than disturbed. "What do you mean by 'Sakura is gone'?!"

* * *

"You could have at least knocked, Morrison!"

The man in suit entered the "Devil May Cry" bureau like it belonged to him. Considering the amount of money the owner of this place owed him, it might be partially true.

"Yeah, I could have," he said, while taking off his hat and waving it around to keep the not very nice smell from the office at bay. "And you should pick up the phone sometimes."

The white-haired man, who was sitting in the centre of the mess (consisted mostly of empty pizza cartons) with his feet on the desk, overdramatically spread his arms.

"The phone isn't working," he stated the obvious.

"Bills don't pay themselves, Dante, you know that?"

"That's why you're here. To give me jobs."

"Oh, yeah. And I have one for you." Morrison wiped out some junk from the desk and sat on it. "Cash, up front."

"Cash up front? This, I like." The man perked up visibly and even sat straight, probably to show that he's serious. It didn't work much, though. "Where's the client?"

"The client had already left," Morrison explained. When Dante's questioningly raised his eyebrow, he sighed and added: "He's a foreigner. But he left the cash and instructions for you. Read it."

The demon hunter glanced at the note that was given to him and saw a strange drawing, which looked like a circle to summon a demon or at least something similar. Some kind of spell was also written there; Dante couldn't understand anything from this strange babbling…

"Morrison, what kind of joke is that?" He winced. "You don't want me to do dark magic, do you? My job is to kill demons, not to summon them."

"You're going to summon a weapon, not a demon. That's what the client said."

"What for? I have enough weapons already."

"I will explain everything if you let me." Morrison lightened up a cigar and stared at the younger man, waiting for him to calm down. Dante sighed, resigned, and waved his hand to encourage the man to continue. "Your task will be to participate in a tournament. The weapon you're going to summon is necessary to join the game."

"A tournament?" Dante crossed his arms, thinking. He didn't look convinced that taking this job is a good idea. "If it's not a demon killing contest, I think the guy picked a wrong person."

"The client said that your adversaries will be 'demon-level'. Something far worse is not out of the question." He breathed out a cloud of smoke. "If I were you, Dante, I would clench your buttcheeks and start drawing that circle. For you it should be fun, child's play actually. And the payment is too good to complain."

For a disturbingly long moment a nervous tapping of Dante's fingers on the desk was the only sound to be heard in the room. Then, with an unexpected return of electricity, the jukebox in the corner filled the bureau with electric guitar noises.

"I see you've already decided…" The son of Sparda commented, leaning back in his chair.

"It's a big job, Dante. Big job," Morrison ensured him with his typical smile. He stood up, ready to leave. "Ah, I almost forgot. Come with me, the client gave me something for you."

They left the building together and proceeded to Morrison's car, parked near the entrance. Something dark and surprisingly large waited patiently in the trunk to be claimed by its new owner.

"What's with this metal junk?" The demon hunter arched an eyebrow, examining the strange item – probably a shield of some kind. A very, very old one, actually. "What I'm supposed to do with this? Use as a surfboard? I haven't been near the sea for ages…"

"It's a 'relic'. You have everything in the instruction. I hope you haven't lost it already."

Dante rolled his eyes and meaningfully poked his back pocket, to show that he has everything under control.

"Good." Morrison got into the car and turned on the engine. "Call me when you'll finish this job. I want to say" 'I told you so!' when you'll be telling me how fun this tournament was."

And he left the demon hunter alone on the empty street with a weird piece of ancient metal in his hands.

* * *

Two gallant figures - a man and a woman - were standing on the balcony of a massive fortress in the middle of an icy wasteland. They both felt a bit out of place here, on this undiscovered island without a name, lost somewhere in the northern part of Europe.

The man has a characteristic two-colored, spiky hair. His elegant glasses froze a bit near the frames from the cold wind. Usually he also wore a mask, which made him look much more scary, as if his futuristic armor and great sword – a trademark of his Servant class - weren't enough to discourage potential challengers. But now he was in a middle of a chatter with one of his allies, so he let himself relax a little. An enemy attack wasn't possible here anyway. The entire place belonged to their fraction and was surrounded by a strong magical barrier, that kept it invisible for ships and modern tracking machinery.

Invisible and impenetrable. Landing here without being detected was simply impossible. Thin lines of magic surrounded the island like a spider's web, pulsing with dreadful energy whenever something supernatural came close enough to activate them. Victims of creepy spells of their Assassin, that could turn any living or undead creature into a spy, were patrolling the land, like pitiful half-frozen zombies with magical notes attached to their foreheads.

Last but not least, the entire area was guarded by their Archer, who has placed himself on the roof of the base. From there he could snipe everything and everyone within his range - and that meant every corner of the island.

That Archer... The silent figure in white, with characteristic long bow, vibrating with lightning. Like any other Heroic Spirit, Saber knew this magnificent item, capable of destroying entire worlds. It was a bow even gods would not be ashamed to use, probably the most famous projective weapon of legends.

He did not suspect its owner to be such a quiet person, to be honest. Despite his position and fame, their Archer behaved more like a butler than a hero. He was neutrally polite towards his allies and performed tasks given him by the mages almost like a machine, but no one really knew what's on his mind. Rider suggested once to share their plan with Archer, or at least to tell him about their doubts, but Saber could not trust the man enough to do so. Not yet.

Only one Servant in their party wasn't intimidated by a silent bowman. Archer and Berserker seemed to get along quite well. They were spending countless hours in silence, clearly enjoying each other's company. Maybe they were so similar they didn't need words to understand each other?

Rider was a completely different matter - a woman of great strength and determination, who believed in her own power like a fanatic (when the reason was right, of course). Although Saber was a Servant of another category, even he would think twice before opposing her. He was sure this woman won't give up easily and victory could not be worth its price in the end. Saber respected and trusted Rider enough to tell her his true name. The feeling was mutual, so the woman also introduced herself. Her name was Martha, a holy maiden who tamed the infamous dragon, Tarasque.

Rider was first to ask Saber about his Master. Strange as it might seem, she's never met the one who had summoned her to this war. The old mage Zouken, a man arrogant enough to call himself 'Grand Master', informed her only that all other Masters agreed to make him the leader of their faction, and every Servant is from now obliged to obey his orders. Martha did not believe it first, but an ominous pressure of Command Spell forced her to remain silent.

They knew for sure that Berserker was summoned by the Einzberns. Assassin was a walking riddle, who would never tell them a word about her Master, and Archer suspiciously avoided this topic. Only Saber knew personally the one who had summoned him to this world – it was a young, a bit overweight boy, an heir of the magical crest of Musik family.

Caster has been summoned some time ago by a stray mage, who clearly didn't want to join them. And Lancer...

Saber closed his eyes, hoping that he will soon understand their situation better. Something strange was going on, a threat bigger and more dangerous than any Grail War can cause.

_Whatever it is, let it come_, he thought, breathing in the cold air. After all, it's a hero's job to resolve other people's conflicts.

"You're still worried about Berserker, Sigurd?" - Martha asked, watching him with a warm expression. Saber nodded, so she continued: "Greatest of heroes, just like you, can fit into any class, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Yes, but, if he's at least a bit like me, a Berserker class won't fit him." The man fell silent for a while, staring at the frozen landscape, as if he tried to see over the sea or even further. "And if that class had been forced into him by the summoner, it doesn't look good."

"Are you saying that our Masters…?"

The man did not let her finish, alarmed by something. An intruder, probably? It wasn't wise to say too much in unwanted company.

"I'm just saying it's better to be careful," he concluded, adjusting his glasses.

Just then Martha finally detected another Servant behind their backs. As expected from an Assassin class, the vixen was impossible to spot if she wanted to hide her presence.

"What's wrong?" – she asked with an offensively polite smile, angry that Sigurd is able to keep secrets from her. It wasn't her first try to catch Saber off guard, and she failed again. "I told you already that if you have any problem, Tamamo is here to help you solve it. It's my duty as the Voice of Grand Master."

"And you came here only to say that?" Sigurd sounded emotionless as usual. He glanced through his shoulder at the fox-eared woman, more interested in the distant constellations on the sky than in Assassin's unquestionable beauty.

Tamamo rolled her eyes, but didn't look particularly offended by Saber's behavior. The little game of teasing and animosity, pretended or not, was sometimes their only entertainment in this snowy wasteland.

"You two looked so bored that I came to give you a special task," she explained. A dangerous light flickered in the corners of her wonderful golden eyes - it was a sign what kind of mission she has on mind.

Saber only sighed in response. Martha, somehow more susceptible to Assassin's provocations, replied with enough passion and resolve to frighten a dragon.

"I thought that we made ourselves clear, vixen. We will never willingly go and kidnap, threaten or murder anyone, unless it's a direct order from our Masters… probably strengthen by a Command Spell."

"Fine, fine. I told you it's only a proposition." The witch sighed, trying to show that they misread her good intentions again. She wasn't afraid of these two, but fighting them for such unimportant reason would be just stupid. They were still useful for the team, so Assassin let it go for now. Actually, she wasn't sure if a Command Spell would work in this matter. Magic Resistance of Saber class is extraordinary, and Rider was not the one to break easily, according to her legend. "You will be useless against Lancer anyway." She turned around, provocatively moving her hips. "Archer, Berserker!"

Two Servants materialized obediently, waiting for commands. Archer, with his dark skin and elegant but not particularly warm outfit, looked out of place in the snowy landscape. Berserker, quite intimidating because of his cold, draconic aura, fitted here more and probably could even gain some advantages from being summoned close to the land of his birth. Not as much as Saber, though. When they stood so close, it was obvious that they share the same origin and even Mad Enhancement couldn't erase those similarities.

"We confirmed that our Lancer has been summoned just now," Assassin explained, waving her fluffy tail with every word. She couldn't hide her excitement; commanding other famous heroes must have been pleasurable for her. "You will depart immediately. Don't dare come back without them… or at least their dead bodies."

"Understood," Archer replied and looked at Berserker. They both dematerialized in the same moment, perfectly synchronized, despite all visible differences between them.

A mean joke about a fox commanding hunting dogs crossed Assassin's mind, but she remained silent to not ruin the moment. Tamamo couldn't care less about making Lancer and her Master their allies, but she already smelled blood and gore in the air.

She was sure that 'that man' can feel it too. They knew each other long before the Grail Wars even started and shared similar beliefs since back then. Many years must have passed to give them this one chance to reunite and put their plan into motion.

And they won't waste it, no matter what.

* * *

"Sway, sway into the night, adorable ghosts…"

Caster was singing quietly to a strange magical mirror, which floated in the air above her head. The impenetrable darkness twirled inside its frame, whispering warnings, prophecies and advices for its rightful owner.

The Nether Mirror could show many things, depending on the nature of the one who looks into it. Some people might see the Realm of the Dead, in shape taken straight from their culture or religion. Others could see their personal hells, little nightmares and traumas. No doubt this 'magical item', if deployed as Noble Phantasm, could annihilate entire armies. The strongest enemy is the one inside your own brain, after all.

Nitocris, however, used the Mirror for divination and spying as often as for fighting. Normally she would sing way louder to receive the answers, but now it was better to be careful and not so noisy.

She shared this underground hideout with two other women: one was her Master and the other - their prisoner. Respecting them both equally, she tried to not disturb their rest with her spells. She didn't care much for the scent of decay that surrounded these two, but the fact that even her mirror couldn't affect them was… disturbing. What kind of hell their pitiful souls went through to be so calm, apathetic even, in the face of such nightmare?

Well, her Master wasn't fully alive to begin with, so it explained at least some things. Nitocris suspected that it was the main reason she'd been summoned by this enigmatic person. They shared the same closeness to the dead, not totally human nature and similar goals. It was enough for the Pharaoh, and the God of Netherworld, to materialize to her calling even without a fitting relic.

"How sad," she whispered, playing with a golden scarab. It was one of her little spies, that just returned from a mission with some useful information. With the last advice of the Mirror, Caster could say that her understanding of the current situation is relatively good. "How incredibly sad… "

Humming under her breath another long forgotten melody from her sandy homeland, Nitocris caressed gently the sacred scarab. Carefully, to not wake up their precious prisoner, she walked through the room to pack their belongings before a long journey.

She smiled, sensing magical bullets she personally enchanted, hidden in the pocket of a favorite coat of her Master. Being useful to the person who had summoned you is most pleasurable to any Servant, so Caster was already planning another innovations. She could add a bit of her magic to other necromantic tools and meaningfully strengthen the spell on both guns… Yes, she will show everyone how powerful Egyptian magecraft can be!

They will leave soon to participate in the great war and Caster intended to be as prepared as possible.

* * *

She landed gracefully on the ground. The sleeping forest around her was unnaturally quiet. Such typical forest, a park rather, could be found anywhere in the world, but she knew she's been sent to the exact location.

The threat big enough to alarm the Counter Force was close by; she could feel a familiar nervousness crawling under her tan, magically affected skin. She took a quick look around, searching for spies or magical traps, but found only naked trees. They seemed asleep for too long to wake up ever again.

Sure that no living creature could survive here, maybe except some truly desperate wolves, she checked her equipment for the last time. The cold couldn't hurt her, because she was an impossible being, created especially for this task. Perfectly independent for short periods of time, an incarnation of a killer for hire. Or rather, like she preferred to think of herself, a guardian of order in the world of mortals.

Actually, there was no thing - living or dead, real or imagined - her blade couldn't destroy, in this or other worlds.

But she needed to hurry. With such powerful and cunning creature as her enemy, the best course of action is to attack swiftly and mercilessly, to avoid the mistake she'd already made a few days ago.

She wasn't a novice, but her target managed to escape. Either this entity was more skilled than anyone could expect or…

With iron determination in her eyes, the mysterious woman grasped her strange sword and ran straight to the castle through the virgin snow. She must finish it quickly, before her time in this reality runs out and her material body dissolves in the cold, winter wind.

* * *

"_Let silver and steel be the essence._

_Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation._

_Let ice be the element I pay tribute to_."

Dante still wasn't sure that taking this job is a good idea. Even after drawing the summoning circle in his room, the demon hunter still had doubts. He placed the shield nearby and started reading the weird rhyme from the note.

"_Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat five times_…" He rubbed his forehead, happy that no one can see him now, while he's doing something so utterly stupid. "What kind of crap is that, huh? _I shall declare here: your body shall serve under me. My fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. If you will submit to this will and this reason… then answer!_"

With a heavy sigh, he forced himself to finish the incantation and looked at the floor. The circle glowed faintly for few seconds, then faded almost immediately.

The demon hunter waited, not sure what to expect. Nothing happened for a disturbingly long moment.

Then, without warning, the entire place drowned in the blinding red light and something sucked Dante into the circle.

"Hey, hey, hey! What the…?!" He didn't finish the sentence, strangely sure that the word 'hell' would be highly inappropriate in this situation. He tried to get out, leaning on his sword, but the magic did not intend to let him escape. It was not a typical tunnel to the underworld or whatever, rather a mist that gently surrounded Dante, cutting off his senses, forcing him to float in the thick nothingness. "I agreed to summon something, not to be summoned!"

It was already too late for such fierce protest - the magical whirlwind devoured the entire room, dissolved the reality. Dante wondered for a moment if his nature of a half-demon makes summoning him through dimensions possible for a skilled magician… but it wasn't important at the moment. Now he needed to prepare for any challenge that awaits him on the other side.

The magical tornado stopped as abruptly as it started. Dante could feel again solid floor under his feet and fresh air in his lungs. He looked around and discovered that he's been transported into the abandoned, devastated room that suspiciously resembles his own bureau. There was even a summoning circle on the floor – almost the same, but drawn more carefully and already weathered. Was it future? Or maybe some places look almost the same even in other worlds?

Suddenly, with a flash of golden light, a creepy horseman, completely clad in a stylish black armor, appeared before his eyes. For Dante this creature looked similar to fiendish cavalrymen he encountered once in the deepest pits of hell, although it didn't emanate demonic aura. Rather something else, equally strong and dangerous. And this strange helmet – isn't it so fancy shaped to imitate a head of a dragon?

The raging stream of his thoughts stopped immediately, when the creature spoke up, in deep but clearly feminine voice:

"I ask of you: are you my Master?"

* * *

...

Honestly, this is probably the biggest project I've ever participated in. So many characters, Servants and Masters alike, so many interactions and colliding ideals… I wouldn't be able to make it possible without my wonderful co-authors. Thank You!

The story takes place more or less ten years after the UBW route. Characters from other timelines may also appear (or their alternate versions, to be precise). As for Devil May cry timeline, you may say it's DMC in general, because details are not important here, rather characters – their mindset, goals and abilities.

It's impossible to tag every character here, so if You want to know the (almost) complete cast, please check this story on AO3, where it's tagged properly.

And, before some of You start to freak out - about the fact that Fuyuki Grail cannot summon heroes from the East – calm down, I know it. This change will be explained later, like many other things. Those of You who read my other stories already know that every detail is important and when I change something, there's a reason and explanation why it happened.

It would be nice to know what You think. Your comments and support keep me going! I'm still searching a proofreader, so any help will be welcomed.

Thank You for reading and stay tuned for the next chapter!


	2. The Clock Tower Goes To War

**Chapter 2: The Clock Tower Goes To War**

_"__Show me what heroes of this world can do. Show me your true power, Bradamante."_

* * *

In the overwhelming silence, the creature in black took off her dragon helmet.

"Whoa! It's my lucky day!" Dante smiled widely, seeing such beautiful face. "So another sexy and badass woman joins my team, huh? It's a shame to hide something this gorgeous under the helmet, don't you think?"

In the next second the tip of her weird spiky spear landed a few millimeters from his nose.

"Aaaand, another sexy and badass woman wants to stab me. Some things never change."

"I asked you a question," the creature said in cold, deep voice that could run shivers down anyone's spine. "Answer me."

"Well, who'd you expected to see?" - the half-demon replied with a shrug. "Of course I am. Even if I don't like this 'war', or how you call it here, I won't break my promise. A man should finish what he started, right?"

"Hmm." The woman looked pleased by his answer. She withdrew her weapon and – finally – dismounted the demonic horse. Although much smaller than Dante, she still could intimidate basically anyone with just a glance. "Let me then introduce myself. I am Arturia Pendragon, currently in Lancer class. I shall destroy all those who would stand in your path."

"And I'm Dante. Just Dante." He sighed, suddenly feeling out of place. Maybe he should come up with a fancy title for himself? "So… you're a famous hero from the past? Sorry, but I'm not familiar with your legends and history."

"Actually, I was once a king of this country." She watched Dante carefully, searching for signs of disbelief or protest, but couldn't find anything suspicious. Maybe a woman-king was not unusual in his world? Or maybe it was just like he had said before – he was used to company of powerful female warriors? "Ah, I can feel it clearly – we're in the heart of Britain. The land itself feeds me with power. But I suggest you to keep my identity secret as long as possible."

"Right, your weird rules. Fine, fine." Indeed, since the strange red tattoos appeared on his hand (was it a helmet or a shield?), his mind has been filled with rules and names he's never heard of before: Noble Phantasms, Servant classes, Command Spells... The more Dante was thinking about it, the more he was sure he got accidentally involved in some shady business. He sighed helplessly. It was too late for such doubts. "A king from ancient times has come to serve me, although I only slay demons for pizza…"

Arturia wasn't sure if he's joking or not.

"What's your point?" – she asked, narrowing dangerously her beautiful golden eyes.

"That you have a strange world here. Not that mine is much better, but still…"

"I see." Lancer tilted her head, slightly amused. Although the blood of demons was running through his veins (thanks to her powerful dragon circuits, she could sense such things with ease), her new Master was more human than he himself realized. "A Servant is just a tool. Think of me not as a person but a new fancy weapon to your collection. In a Grail War death is a price for stupid doubts."

Dante only stared at her, wondering what's wrong with this reality. No way he's going to accept something like that! She was too breathtaking to be just a material ghost.

"You seem to be more than just a Servant the Grail informed me about. Your body is… too real."

"Indeed, the summoning went slightly different than usual. It seems that I… reincarnated rather than materialized." She focused for a moment. Her heart was beating slowly but steadily, her skin reacted normally to coldness of the wind. But she could feel that her stomach is starting to demand food – and that wasn't typical for a Servant. "I suspect that your lack of magic circuits is the reason of this abnormality, Master."

"Just Dante, ok?" He frowned, trying to understand what she's talking about. Demons usually do not care for spells, they just feed directly on the energy of others. "My lack of what?"

"Mages in this world generate energy for their spells in special circuits, which are carved in their souls. You don't posses anything like this, but your raw power is still outstanding. It seems that, instead of magical energy, you shared your life force with me." Arturia fell silent for a while, then hummed, realizing something. "It won't change my fighting potential, but I'm afraid I cannot dematerialize."

"Oh." That was problematic, considering her outfit, which seemed at least weird in the modern city. Not that Dante looked any less suspicious… "And your horse?"

She shook her head and caressed the demonic horse between its ears. The mare narrowed her eyes and neighed quietly. Dante wasn't an expert, but even he could say that this is an amazing, strong beast. Arturia alone was definitely a terrifying adversary, and the demon hunter had fought enough mounted fiends to know how powerful these two can be.

"Llamrei," Lancer said, seeing raising curiosity in the gaze of her new Master. "Her name is Llamrei. I would invite you to travel in the saddle with me, but I'm afraid she hasn't accepted you… yet."

"Clever beast." The demon hunter smiled. "Trust is something that must be deserved first."

Arturia only hummed in response. They were standing like this for a long moment, thinking intensively. What they were going to do now, lost in a modern city?

"We should make contact with our faction first," Lancer suggested eventually.

"Right." Dante, who seemed to be a man of action, listened eagerly to Arturia's suggestion. "Let's stick to back alleys for now."

Arturia agreed and their weird trio, led by instinct and faint traces of magic in the air, walked slowly into the night, more or less in the direction of the Clock Tower.

* * *

Reines Ell-Melloi Archisorte was a very attractive woman. In her twenties she still possessed that special charm and grace of a bisque doll. And she knew well how to use it to her advantage.

It shouldn't be then so surprising for Waver that, during his two-week absence, she totally took over the Clock Tower. But it was a huge surprise, especially when he's learnt that Reines is now in charge of a special operation group… and that she already knows much more about the Fuyuki Grail than he has ever intended to tell her.

"Here you are at last!" She welcomed Rin and Waver on the corridor with unusual enthusiasm. "Now we can finally start the preparations!"

"Huh?" I wasn't the best possible reaction, but she took them by surprise.

"Oh, come on, brother." She caressed gently the only silver strand in Waver's still gorgeous hair. "Don't you know that our great and almighty Queen, our precious Vice Director Barthomeloi Lorelei had been **abducted**? And because of that the Clock Tower is now preparing for war?"

"What?" – Rin shouted, totally shocked. Barthomeloi was one of the strongest mages of the modern era, able to challenge Dead Apostle Ancestors one on one and win. How anyone could abduct her? Maybe by surprise, but then again – how can anyone could surprise or even approach someone this powerful and skilled? It seemed preposterous! "What are you talking about?!"

"What war?" – asked Waver, not much calmer than his companion.

In response Reines touched the back of Waver's hand, where the outline of Command Spells had already formed.

"The Great Holy Grail War of Ice and Storm, of course. And don't give me that look, of course I knew everything from the very beginning!" She giggled like a little girl, but something vicious remained in her gaze anyway. "But it's not important now. Come, the others are waiting. We have some explaining to do."

Rin and Waver exchanged surprised looks and followed her to a big chamber guarded by two battle mages. Another candidate for a Master of Ice was waiting inside – the red-haired gentleman, and one of the one of the best instructors in the Clock Tower, Bram Nuada-Re Sophia-Ri.

He greeted them with a slight bow of head. He tried to sit on a sofa in a seemingly relaxed pose, but still looked like he wanted to sink into the carpet. Unlike Waver, who would do almost everything to re-summon his old friend and former Servant, this guy never dreamt of being a Master. He would probably pass this doubtful honor, along with his Command Spells, to another mage, if they had time and a painless method to achieve it.

"So, we're almost ready." Reines, visibly excited by her role of the coordinator, made them all take seats around the table. "Before we get started, could you please introduce yourself, Master of Assassin?"

"Okay, okay, nice to meet you and all…" The partially distorted voice came from the weird device on the table. "For some reason I would like to remain anonymous as long as possible. You can call me Ji… if you must."

Tohsaka raised an eyebrow, observing with caution the crackling box – mistrust towards modern technology was carved deeply into her genome. Unlike her, Waver wasn't impressed at all.

"Who's late?" – he asked with hands in his pockets.

Before anyone managed to answer a loud laughter reach them from the corridor. It was such characteristic, awful sound…

"No! Why you, of all people?! Why?!" Rin barely controlled the sudden urge to escape through the window. "Why this always happens to me?!"

As if in response to her yelling, the door opened and an elegant blonde in blue dress entered the room.

"Isn't it obvious, Miss Tohsaka? It's because I, Luviagelita Edelfelt, am the best suited to become a Master in this war!"

* * *

Shirou stared at his cell phone with a mix of annoyance and sadness, like if the poor device was responsible for all his problems.

"Damn you, Tohsaka. You won't die if you pick up your phone sometimes, you know?"

"Calm down, you'll kill the battery." Scáthach leisurely stretched her arms, staring at the window. She looked gorgeous in her simple modern outfit – a purple costume with short down jacket fitted perfectly for the cold region they were heading to. Her deadly spears rested safely in a sheath, pretending to be just skis. Together with Shirou they looked like a funny pair on a mountain trip. "You're a hot-headed brat sometimes, you know? I'm still amazed that you just jumped into the train because that Shinji guy told you that probably the Einzberns have his little sister. What if his informants were wrong and you're just pursuing shadows?"

"Shinji may be an asshole, but he's always been quite popular and knew how to get to people. Even I use his contacts sometimes." Shirou sighed, remembering something. "Anyway, I believe him in this matter."

"I see. Did I misheard something or he said that the castle was not only abandoned, but also devastated?"

"Yeah." Emiya stared at the window, thinking. Their train was slowly moving through silent German woods, already covered under the veil of snow. The landscape that should be rather calming somehow made Shirou more and more nervous with every passing kilometer. "He said that the castle was destroyed 'like if Gilgamesh did it.'."

Shirou did not have to imagine how the building looked like, he had witnessed the battle of legends during the last war. The castle had been rebuilt few months later and a small delegation of the Einzbern homunculi lived there for some time. They were even running some magical experiments, although not as much as Tohsaka (her residence almost exploded several times during only last year!).

"If a Servant or something at least as strong is involved, do you think it's wise to go there in your condition? You haven't fully recovered yet."

Her pupil should at least show some remorse or embarrassment, but instead he gave Scáthach a wide, sincere smile.

"Nothing bad can happen if you're with me, right?"

The beautiful eyes of the Queen of Shadows narrowed dangerously.

"Your insolence is unbelievable," she said, crossing her legs. "Although still far from the level of that idiot _Sétanta_. I agreed to teach you, not to babysit you, Shirou. Never forget about that."

"Yes, Ma'am." He saluted obediently and fell silent to not tease his teacher anymore. He has already learnt that Scáthach usually doesn't open her mouth unprovoked… but if you push her too much, you will regret it. Like with a butterfly that can cause a stone avalanche if it hits the right spot.

Actually, even the smallest chatter with her felt like a lesson. Emiya did not intend to complain, though. Everything he could learn from such legendary person was literally priceless.

But now they both retreated to the comfortable silence of their own minds, trying to predict what awaits them in the infamous headquarter of the Einzberns.

* * *

"What have you done this time, Dante?"

Being transported into another reality without warning or even asking permission is not a very pleasurable experience. Especially when you suddenly find yourself in a dirty back alley and cold rain is shamelessly falling down on your head.

Vergil instinctively ran his hand through hair, fixing it. He didn't like having his hair wet and covering his eyes. His resemblance to Dante was problematic enough even when they did not look **exactly** the same.

"So... a tournament for mages?" That was interesting. No doubt his little brother had no idea what he's getting himself into. Vergil had much better understanding of the dark arts, so he quickly realized that the spellcaster, who sent Dante to this world, knew exactly what he was doing.

It was a clever trick, honestly, based solely on the demon's legacy in their blood. A summoning spell, using traditional portals. But the mysterious magus couldn't expect that, since the same blood runs through the half-demon brothers veins, they both will come to this reality to become Masters of similar Servants. Or could he?

Whatever it was, this situation, although unexpected, had some pluses as well. The 'omnipotent wish-granting device' sounded very promising. Judging from the knowledge the Grail itself had fed the newly appointed Master, winning the tournament should be easy for someone as skilled as Vergil.

Still amazed by this strange otherworldly magic, the elder son of Sparda stared at his left hand, where a sign of his right to participate in the war took shape of a… spear? A very unusual one, which looked like a two-bladed sword. He wondered for a while if this supposes to mean anything. Or maybe the Grail has some weird sense of aesthetics, to decorate mages with such fancy tattoos?

No matter, it was only a symbol. From what he understood, his Servant is the only thing necessary to obtain the Grail. Speaking of which…

"You may show up already," he said, feeling a partially hostile presence nearby.

A long-legged blonde obediently emerged from around corner. Her big blue eyes seemed to silently judge Vergil and it was nearly obvious that this Servant is not happy to have him as a Master.

"Lancer of Storm, Bradamante," she said eventually with a slight bow of her head. Vergil noticed that her golden hair was carefully pinned up at the top, but unusually long strands were falling freely on her back anyway. "Came in response to your summons. Forgive me for asking such insolent questions, but… Master, are you a black mage? Or…" The next word couldn't slip through her tightened throat. "A demon?"

"And what if I am?"

The warrior maiden tensed visibly, her hand instinctively found the hilt of the strange weapon, which looked like a tip of a spear. Vergil suspected that it can increase its length on demand, or at least emit beams of energy. Whatever it was, he surely could handle it. The magical shield wielded by the maiden seemed much more interesting to him.

"If you're disappointed, know that the feeling is mutual." He smirked mockingly, trying to provoke her. "What a little girl like you can possibly do?"

It worked, because Bradamante's cheeks turned red in an instant. She stood straight, grasping her strange shield like before a battle.

"I am one of the twelve Charlemagne's Paladins, The Knight of White Feathers! Don't take me lightly!"

"Show me then." Yamato suddenly appeared in Vergil's hand and Lancer wondered for a while how it's possible that such a long blade moves so fast. "Show me what heroes of this world can do. Show me your true power, Bradamante."

Lancer hesitated for a moment. Attacking a Master wasn't something she wanted to do, but if this strange man was a demon or even worse - a dark mage! - her duty was to strike him down here and now. Even if she'll become a traitor, a failure of a Servant, she was still a paladin, obliged to fight evil in any shape.

"Fine, if this is an order." She stepped forward with iron determination in her gaze. "Get ready!"

"Oh, but I am ready," Vergil replied, a bit too cheerfully in her opinion. Like if he was enjoying this upcoming duel. Such people were dangerous, in Bradamante's opinion. Maybe even too dangerous to be left alone.

"You won't use magic, only your sword?"

Vergil shrugged at this weird suggestion.

"I like to fight fairly," he stated so simply, that Lancer didn't know what to think about it. "Therefore, you may land the first blow."

So she did. Metal clashed with metal with a rain of sparkles. Even this one strike was enough for Lancer to realize that this strange man is far stronger than any human of this world.

After only a short exchange they both froze suddenly, staring into the darkness of the nearby alley. Soon two figures materialized there: a dark-skinned bowman in white clothes and a dragonlike knight with an oversized two-handed blade.

"Oh? Looks like we interrupted something," the shorter man said politely. Just one glance at him told Vergil, that this slim, elegant Archer is more dangerous than he looks. "Please forgive me, for a moment I thought that two Servants are fighting, but now I see I was wrong." Something similar to admiration was visible in his gaze. Vergil wondered if Masters with high fighting potential are not common in this world. "Anyway, would you like to listen to us for a while before you kill each other?"

Bradamante and her Master exchanged questioning looks, then simultaneously lowered their weapons. If something important is on the matter, their little battle for domination can wait.

"Go on," Vergil said, piercing the bowman with a cold gaze. He almost completely ignored the other warrior, feeling no real threat from him. If things are about to go violent, Lancer will take care of the dragon.

Bradamante either could read his intensions or came to the same conclusion, because she moved slightly to the left, closer to the wall. It was a perfect position to attack the silent swordsman if necessary.

Both Servants of Storm must have noticed those little preparations, but did not react to them in any way. They were sent here to negotiate first, so they tried to behave as friendly as possible.

"Let me get straight to the point then: the Grand Master of Storm sends his greetings and expects you to join us in the fortress." Archer bowed slightly, but Berserker only watched them with his cold blue eyes. "The rest has already gathered, we've been waiting only for you to show up."

"What for?" Vergil tilted his head, waiting more for an offer than for an explanation.

"To talk about the conditions of your cooperation. The Grail is currently in our possession, so we must only defend it and slay enough enemy Servants to activate it. No matter what your wishes are, it should be enough to grant them all."

The offer was, indeed, tempting. Except one small detail: the Grand Master himself. No matter who he was, Vergil hated with all his heart the idea of **serving** as one of his minions.

"And if we refuse?"

"You will become our enemies." The way Archer said it, totally devoid of emotion, was disturbing. Like he didn't care or maybe even tried to provoke them to attack. Whatever it was, he clearly played his own little games behind the back of this so-called Grand Master of Storm. "As such, you will be dealt with. Immediately."

"I see."

The silence that fell between them was thick, tense, and long enough to become awkward. Berserker said something to his exotic companion, who nodded and asked Vergil politely:

"So? What is your answer?"

Instead of responding, Vergil raised his sword again. Archer did not seem surprised and immediately used his bow. At the same moment, Bradamante's spear clashed with the two-handed sword of Berserker.

"Too bad we must end up as enemies," Lancer said, bravely trying to withstand the raw strength of the dragon warrior. She almost fell on her knees when Berserker pressed forward to smash her. "Do not underestimate me! A Paladin won't ever fall!"

But the real spectacle, different than that petty scuffle, started between the other two warriors, and it was a battle of minds more than of weapons. When one summoned energetic arrows, the other answered with incorporeal blades. When one attacked physically, the other dodged with incredible swiftness and grace. Faster, higher, harder, until they both resembled smudges of light more than persons.

The son of Sparda quickly realized that exchanging missiles with an archer is not the wisest idea, but his opponent turned out to be really skilled when it comes to keeping the right distance during a duel.

_Fine. It's time for some tricks then._

Another portion of summoned swords clashed with arrows above their heads, splashing into a waterfall of sparks. This little explosion should be enough to blind Archer and catch him off guard. Vergil attacked immediately, shifting into the smudge of shadows. He appeared right behind his opponent and slashed mercilessly with his sword, aiming for the neck.

"Oh? It's been a long time since I last fought a demon." To Vergil's amazement, Archer managed to block the blow and smiled. It was a wild, almost insane expression of a bloodthirsty beast. This strange Servant probably liked fighting much more than he dared to admit, even to himself.

"I knew you're a weird one." Vergil returned the smirk. It would be fun to take this warrior down. Maybe he'll need to fight seriously soon, who knows? For now just toying with the enemy Servant was funny enough.

"Am I?" The bowman dodged the next blow with disturbing ease. "Maybe. But I won't lose to the one like you. I have a much more important task."

"We'll see."

They had nothing more to say to each other, so they let their weapons and magic speak instead.

* * *

"Is it certain?" Tohsaka asked, glancing at the cup of steaming tea. No meeting in the Clock Tower could do without tea, to Rin's raising frustration. She preferred the red Chinese tea, or at least Japanese tea, so drinking this brown brew, sometimes with a bit of milk, was a torture for her. "That the disappearance of the Queen is connected to the Grail?"

"Who knows?" – Reines replied simply, stretching on the sofa. "But, if we want to retrieve the Grail, it's better to insist that these cases are connected."

That was true. Even if no one in the Association really cared for Barthomeloi 's wellbeing, they would still be involved. For some mages it was a matter of honor – no one should raise a hand against the ultimate authority of the magi world and go unpunished, right? For others it was a perfect occasion to climb up the ranks of the Clock Tower hierarchy, either by becoming a Master or just supplying the team with necessary resources. There was also a group that only desired the Grail, for the 'scientific purposes', which would aid the challengers just to reach this goal.

So, no matter the outcome, participating in the next Grail War was beneficial for the Association.

"But why Ice and Storm?"

"Who knows?" Lord El-Melloi II shrugged. "Maybe it's named after the most powerful or important Servant in their ranks?"

"It still doesn't make sense. Why their team is called 'Storm faction' then? Since they're hiding on the island of ice, I suppose they have at least one Norse Servant…"

"Maybe they somehow summoned Thor," Luvia suggested, crossing her arms.

"That would be… troublesome."

"Every Servant can be killed. We just need to summon some kind of Ice Queen to counter him."

"But we already have one." Waver chuckled, glancing meaningfully at Luvia. Rin's face brightened in an instant at this joke.

"Excuse me, did you say something?" The head of the Edelfelt family asked so politely that it was rather scary. But the most terrifying was the fact how much Luvia and Rin resembled each other, especially when they got older and more powerful.

"I'm really glad you're enjoying yourselves, but let's get back to the topic." Reines nonchalantly took a sip of her tea. "Since our current plan to invade the island is far from perfect, we should summon other Servants first and prepare something better, based on their abilities. Archer or Caster would be most appreciated."

"Is it not a job for Assassin to infiltrate the enemy territory?" – asked Bram, trapped between two dangerous Gandr users, and visibly tired of their never-ending fights.

"We tried. But Assassin's methods are… specific and not really suited for this kind of cold environment. Do you know what wind and ice can do to origami spies?" Seeing no understanding in their gazes, Reines sighed painfully. "It will be easier to just show you. Can you please come down here, Assassin?"

A small girl in pink and violet robes materialized in the room. She had funny glasses, very long hair and… a cape with bat ears?

"Good evening everyone," she said drowsily, barely glancing at the gathered mages. "I'm Assassin of Ice, the yōkai princess of Himeji Castle, Osakabe. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Assassin." Rin couldn't hold a smile – the cute girl reminded her of someone she once knew. More importantly, it's been long since she'd last seen a Servant and she did not expect how much she missed such sensation.

"Yes, yes, whatever." Osakabehime sighed overdramatically, pretending to ignore the nice welcome. Talking to them was clearly a very unpleasant duty for her. "As our Boss kindly explained, I am far more subtle than some boring sneaking ninja or whatever you may think of an Assassin class. I have my own Servants to do the boring job while I can focus on important stuff, like defense." She stopped suddenly and winced, visibly angry. "I would gladly continue, but my spies have been just attacked, right after they detected signals of fighting Servants. Here, in London. You should probably send someone to check it."

"Yup, I can see them as well," Ji announced proudly through the communicator. "I'm sending a map to the patrolling team."

"It will be done." Reines nodded and summoned an assistant to give him detailed orders. "Do you know who attacked you, Assassin? That vixen again?"

"Yeah. But there's someone else, watching from the shadows. And I really don't like his aura."

With those words she disappeared from the room, leaving the mages in not very optimistic mood.

"Maybe it's some kind of inner conflict within the Storm faction?" Although Rin tried to find any good signs in this weird situation, she didn't look convinced by her own suggestion.

"Rather they found someone from our faction," Lord el-Melloi II said grimly. "And all we can do is sit here and wait."

"Well, we all knew that we're starting from the less favorable position, with them already having the Grail and all, but losing possible allies before we can even meet them is too much." Luvia frowned, deep in thoughts.

Even Bram nodded thoughtfully, although he still was the last one to voluntarily go and fight.

"Our agents won't be of much help, I'm afraid. We're dealing with Servants here." Reines took a deep breath and stood up, gathering strength to face the upcoming challenge. "I think you all agree with me now that we have no time to waste. Come, let's prepare the summoning circles."

* * *

"They're losing," Tamamo stated the obvious, staring into the magical orb. A powerful spell placed on this small item by the mysterious Servant let them observe the fight in distant London from their underground hideout.

She was the only creature allowed to came to this man's chambers, even uninvited. And she did it often, whenever she felt the need of more privacy or just tried to avoid her annoying, tyrannical Master.

"Indeed."

"Then why are you so happy?"

The other Servant laughed, delighted by the spectacle. He didn't care about Lancer, who - as expected - couldn't even scratch their Berserker. But her Master, that strange individual with a demonic katana, was on a completely different level. Who would have thought that he will corner Arjuna with such ease?

Well, Archer was still far from going all out, because he didn't want to use his overly destructive Noble Phantasm in the city. Physically, though, the white-haired warrior was far stronger and faster than Arjuna. Also, the man displayed some outstanding magical potential – right now he kept countering Archer's energetic arrows with his own incorporeal daggers, all while mercilessly pursuing his opponent from roof to roof.

As Assassin said, Servants of Storm were losing this battle.

"Order them to retreat," the man decided eventually. "I've seen enough for today."

"Why?" Tamamo frowned. "This outsider seems too dangerous to be left alone, we should rather send Saber and Rider to finish him off."

"Because there's a better way to use someone like him. Simply defeating this hybrid will be a waste." He caressed gently the surface of the glass. "Such delicious energy… Besides, I must test the other one first. Then I'll decide if playing with them a little longer is worth the effort."

The witch frowned again, but she could understand his logic. There was a new kind of magic within his reach, to discover and master it, and nothing in the world could be more amusing for this man.

"Fine, but never forget that I warned you."

"Mhhhm, wonderful," the other Servant mumbled, still captivated by the fight. Assassin sighed overdramatically to show that she doesn't like to be ignored. "Oh, I almost forgot to ask – how's your little yōkai war is going?"

"I wouldn't call it a war. That petty excuse of a Servant means nothing outside her territory."

Although she tried hard to sound neutral, Tamamo couldn't really hide her raising annoyance. The other Assassin was getting on her nerves. She, the most powerful of foxes, won't lose to a local deity, bounded to an attic of some provincial castle! After all, it was Tamamo's fame that robbed Osakabehime from her kitsune status and reduced her rival to a mere bat demon.

"I see. Don't go easy on her out of the false sense of kinship."

"Don't be ridiculous!" The witch waved her tail and intended to leave, but stopped in front of one of the tanks, alarmed by a strange scratching sound. "She's still fighting," she noticed flatly, staring at the woman trapped inside. Her brown hair was floating behind her like a veil, disturbed from time to time by strong waves of liquid magic that surrounded her. Even though the eyes of the trapped mage were closed, her tired, terrified expression was enough to tell that she's suffering.

"Of course she does. I have no need of a weak vessel."

Assassin hummed, not pleased by his answer. She stepped closer to the tank and touched a single crack on the glass with her nail.

"Are you sure she won't break free? Maybe you should push her harder?"

Finally Tamamo got full attention of her companion. He dispelled the view in the orb and joined the witch downstairs.

"No, fighting someone as strong as her directly wouldn't be wise." A particularly wicked smile appeared on the man's face, when he whispered a weird incantation into _Barthomeloi'_s ear. The prisoner shivered in pain, tortured by some horrible vision in her restless sleep. "She will be defeated by her own fears and nightmares."

He had chosen this woman because of outstanding quality of her magic circuits. Most of all, they were pure, not stained by special abilities or elemental affinity. And that meant endless possibilities for the Grail – in the entire history of magic, the true miracle they all wished for was closer than ever.

The Servant smiled even wider, when he imagined what he will be able to achieve, if he feeds such perfect vessel with the energy of both demonic brothers.

Something in his gaze alarmed Tamamo. She trusted this man, as much as someone like her is able to trust someone, but it didn't put her inborn alertness to sleep. A fox must keep its mind clear, always, or a hunter will quickly become a prey. And this fox did not intend to get robbed of its tail.

"Don't even think of changing your plans without informing me," she warned him, this time sounding coldly and decisively, like a true demon. "I'm aiding you only because we share the same wish."

"Have I ever lied to you, Mikuzume, my dear friend?"

She didn't answer, only sent him another icy glare and dematerialized, to end the fight in London before those two idiots get killed.

* * *

"That's… a lot of relics."

"Indeed!" Reines smiled widely. "Thanks to our efforts we'll be able to perform the grand summoning immediately!"

"OUR efforts?" Bram snorted… or at least wanted to, but his innate pride made him stop the sound before it managed to leave his throat. "I don't remember you lifting a finger to help."

"It was a figure of speech." Reines rolled her eyes. "I'm the coordinator of our special group, so I have right to speak for everyone."

"Fine, fine, we get it." Rin interrupted their meaningless exchange of malicious comments and took a closer look at the relics. She could easily tell that every single one was a powerful magical item, even if in form of a scrap of material, shard of a weapon or piece of stone. She instinctively touched the pendant hidden under her shirt. It let her summon Archer once, maybe this time, too… She sighed heavily. It was nearly impossible back then, no way he's going to ever come back. "I can't believe I'm willingly doing this again."

"You can still go home if you're afraid, Miss Tohsaka," Luvia said with a smirk, although no one really asked her opinion.

"No, someone must keep an eye on the ones like you, so you won't make a mistake during a summoning spell."

"You…!"

"Ladies, please…" Waver impatiently shook his head. He was the only one who had already chosen the relic, while the rest of their team just let the fate decide which Servant will make a pact with them. He realized that he's even more scared and nervous now than years ago, when he was just an ambitious, stupid brat, who had no idea what he's doing. Tonight he probably cared too much – and that almost paralyzed him with fear.

"Yes, yes, it's nice that you're enjoying yourselves, but it's about time to start." Reines clapped her hands. "So… Everyone's ready?"

Four mages formed a square, facing each other in silence. The summoning circles were glowing faintly on the floor under their feet, and a pile of relics had been placed in the centre of this strange geometrical figure. Soon they adjusted their circuits to the flow of magic in the room.

"Fine then." Reines must have been excited as well, because she raised her voice a bit too much than necessary and made a slight movement of her hand, like starting a race or something. "Let the grand summoning begin!"

After a moment of heavy silence the metallic sound of activated magic circuits filled the room. Every magus reached for his unique form of power, from jewels to ritual sacrifice, to awake the circle and start the actual spell. Soon the entire place was glowing with cold blue energy and the group incantation began.

"_Let silver and steel be the essence.  
Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.  
Let ice be the element I pay tribute_ _to_."

With every word the tension in the air raised significantly. The four Masters could feel the Commands Spells on their hands taking their final shape, vibrating with power…

"_Let_ _it be declared now;  
your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword.  
Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail.  
Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth_."

The hurricane of magic surrounded them, tugging their clothes and hair. It was hard to even stand under such pressure.

"_From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power,  
come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!"_

The light filled the room, then burst out into a cloud of magical mist. Reines literally jumped in her seat, her eyes were burning red from large amounts of magic in the air. She clenched her fist in a winning gesture, realizing that the ritual ended successfully.

"Your summons have been answered. We are the Servants of Ice!" – four men declared proudly, finishing the contract. "Our swords are yours to command."

Rin tilted her head, quietly judging her new Saber. Luvia smiled widely, visibly pleased by the statistics of her new fighting partner. Even Bran seemed quite content with the result of the summoning.

An uncontrollable sobbing was coming from the corner of the room. Both mages and Servants stared at Lord El Melloi II, who was standing there, trying to behave like a serious adult… But he couldn't keep his emotions in check anymore and burst into tears like a baby.

* * *

…

Sorry for the delay, but the last few months were terrible for me… I hope the hype did not burn out completely and You enjoyed the chapter.

A lot of explaining in this one, I hope it was useful for those of You, who are not familiar with Fate series.

There were many questions about the DMC timeline used in this story. Well, if You really insist… Let's say it's a DMC5 reality before the start of DMC5 [as if Capcom did not mess up the timeline enough already ;)].


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